


You Lose Some, You Win Some

by DVDemoni, satalderihannsu



Category: Black Jack (Anime & Manga), Young Black Jack - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Consent is Sexy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Impotence, M/M, Medical, Memories, Only We Understand Each Other, Oral Sex, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6081276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DVDemoni/pseuds/DVDemoni, https://archiveofourown.org/users/satalderihannsu/pseuds/satalderihannsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two old friends meet in the rain. Two old enemies meet on the battlefield. Oh, who am I kidding? Black Jack and Kiriko, alone, with dicks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Lose Some, You Win Some

"You look ridiculous, you know?" Kiriko called down to the dejected figure all in black at the foot of the steps. He walked forward, his long feet making a loud, sharp clop-clop on the stairs as he walked forward. Kiriko sat beside him, a little tired himself. It had been the worst three days this year, that was for sure. "Like the saddest penguin just had his favorite rock taken away." He laughed a little under his breath and offered the other doctor a cigarette. "You still smoke?"

The other unlicensed doctor scowled up at him, but saw the offered pack. He started to refuse with a wave of a hand, but then took it anyway. He looked down at it, but didn't light, simply let it rest familiarly between his fingers.

"I stopped after Pinoko... " He quieted. He wasn't ready for this level of familiarity. Not with him.

"But sometimes it's just nice to have the weight and smell of something familiar?" Without meaning to, something familiar, from many years ago in Vietnam came to mind. He allowed himself the weight and smell of the memory but just comfortingly patted his other self on a dejected shoulder.

Really... at the moment... he supposed there was no reason for animosity. Neither had gotten their way on this one. The warmth of the hand on his shoulder felt somehow comforting from even from Kiriko, and he left himself be pulled into an embrace. He started to stiffen to pull away, but really... what was the point? He'd accepted embraces from this man a lifetime ago. When you didn't know better, some bitter part of him said, but still the warmth of the other,made him not care. He smirked.  _ Same aftershave _ ... Perhaps some things didn't change?

Kiriko caught the odd sound. Was Black Jack... sniffing him? He held his chuckle, because he knew it would drive the other away. Here they were, so many years away from that time, and he still felt strangely protective of this man who was still somehow so innocent. Age had changed his face, the hardness of his eyes, the arrogance of his self-confidence... and yet he was just as devastated in the face of that which Kiriko accepted as part and parcel of his every day. He breathed deeply and said, softly, "I wish I could bring you as much peace as that woman in there."

Black Jack scowled. "I suppose that would make your job easier."

"Henh?" He blinked and considered his words. Oh. Oh dear. "Haha! No, no, Black Jack, I didn't mean it like that at all. So long as you want to go on living, I want you to do so. You're an egotistical thorn in my side, to be sure, but maybe at the end of that thorn is a rose ever-blooming, eh?" He smirked sharply. His hand stroked down his upper arm and pulled him closely in. Black Jack was smaller than him, but thicker, healthier. "Come on, it's cold out here. Anything else can be taken care of tomorrow. Why don't you come to dinner with me? My hotel is gracious and keeps the kitchen open all night."

Black Jack found himself bemused at that. Who knew Kiriko was a romantic at heart? He straightened and stood. Why not? It wasn't like Pinoko should be subjected to his mood tonight. Why not be here with this man? His stomach gurgled as though answering for him.

"I'll take that as 'yes,' then. Well, come on and drive us there. I'll give you directions. It's too cold for me to bike back." He stood too and followed Black Jack to the car.

The drive was not a long one, and one passed in quiet but for Kiriko's simple directions. Kiriko didn’t press for further information. He knew what was happening in Black Jack’s mind. It was always rough seeing him like this. He was so obstinate! If only Black Jack would abandon the madness that he alone could turn the inevitable tide of suffering! Kiriko watched him out of the corner of his eye, and could see the weight on Black Jack’s shoulders. He wished so much to be able to ease him, but Kiriko’s only good works weren’t suited to this kind of misery. So other than the occasional “left here” and “keep going until you can see the cape,” he stayed quiet. It was easy to have a silence between them, and it wasn’t truly uncomfortable.

Kiriko’s hotel was a small, private one high on a cliff with a lovely view, not unlike Black Jack's own home. HIgh clouds had rolled in, and the moonlight was sharp in the cold atmosphere. Kirko led Black Jack in, but made him carry his own bag. At the desk, Kiriko placed an order for room service as he picked up his key. With a sharp gaze, he silenced the staff member and led Black Jack to his rooms (plural).

Within, Kiriko silently took Black Jack's coat and jacket, and even offered him slippers. Black Jack wandered in a tired haze. He found his own way to the bathroom, and when he returned, Kiriko could see that his collar was damp. He’d washed his face, it seemed. It did nothing for the blood still on his shirt, but he did, however, look a little more aware.

"Better?" Kiriko asked.

He nodded softly, and looked to the table in the corner. Food had arrived, and the food admittedly smelled good. Kiriko smiled slightly as he pulled out a chair and offered it, gentlemanly. Black Jack graciously took it. Loosening his tie, he leaned back in the chair.

Kiriko poured wine and took some himself. "I'm sure you'll feel better soon enough, yeah? It's good food, if not very fresh." Soup, meat, bread, and small dishes of vegetables cooked in local style. It was cute watching Black Jack's demeanour shift as he got to work on the soup first. Kirko cut him a slice of bread.

The soup was warming and obviously some sort of guarded family recipe. The best kinds were. He ate quickly, and was a little aware that Kiriko must see him like an urchin as he dug into the food. Kiriko set bread nearby. He looked up at him, and decided to be an adult who sat at a table and and had dinner conversation. The other doctor was being his usual pleasantly conversational self, but this time he couldn't find it irritating.

“Food good?” Kiriko asked as he idly munched from his own plate.

“Mm-hmm,” replied Black Jack.

“What’s your favorite?”

Black Jack paused and swallowed. “Soup,” he answered.

After most of the food was gone, and both their color returned to living status, Kiriko had made his decision. He sipped wine as he spoke, keeping his expression as neutral as it ever got. "I already know what you would say if I mentioned that I only have one bed. You would point out the en suite couch, of course. We would argue for a bit, and you might win either the couch or a solitary position in my bed. But I'm going to skip all that and not give you a chance to try." He stood and gathered some of the dishes. "Instead, you're going to help me get these to the hall, and then you're going to take a shower, piping hot, and then I will dry you. After that, I will take you in that one bed, and we can perhaps talk about why you were inhaling my scent on the steps earlier."

His eyes opened wide with a surprised look. "You are remarkably blunt about your plans for me. What makes you think that I would submit to such? We are a long way away from Vietnam, and I am not that boy anymore."

Kiriko stared at him for a long moment, then his face broke into a grin. "Heh. Come on. I can't carry all these myself." His arms were full of bowls and the plate of leftover scraps.

The bowls and platters from dinner were quickly removed to the hall and Kiriko did indeed shoo him into the bathroom with his toiletry kit, and a rankling pat on to his backside. 

The bathroom was cozy, like the rest of the place. As Black Jack undressed he noticed the blood up the front of shirt and vest finally. No wonder the woman at the front desk had given him a second and third glance. The hot water was soothing of aches and concerns, until there was a polite but anchoring knock at the bathroom door.

“I know from experience that they don't have a very big hot water boiler," he called in, cracking the door and peering in. He caught a glimpse of Black Jack's ire-ful eye over the top of the low-hung shower curtain. He pushed the door the rest of the way open and showed that he held a large, fluffy yellow towel.

Black Jack reached from behind the curtain, longish white hair dangling over one eye as he did so, and grabbed for the towel. But oh, no, that was not happening. Kiriko tugged, hard, on his end, yanking Black Jack off of his feet and making him stagger out of the shallow tub. Kiriko caught him in the towel, inelegantly, and grinned a wicked smirk at him. "I did tell you, didn't I? That I was going to dry you."

Indignant was not even a proper word to describe this, thought Black Jack. He could feel his cheeks  coloring, and he scowled at the other man--him and his smug smile.

Kiriko helped him stand again. The blush was definitely cute. "I think I like it when I see the red of the blood inside your body, instead of on it," he said in regards to the blush. It was so fascinating to see it on the two colors of his cheeks. He began to pat down Black Jack's body, allowing himself some leisure over it. Was he still as strangely sensitive? They had had similar interactions over the years... what, six times now? He felt his own cheeks grow hot. He focused on squeezing the wet from Black Jack's hair, and patting down his neck, his back, his sides. He took it slowly, making sure to be thorough and neither dispassionate nor directly lecherous in his touches. He also avoided touching skin to skin, fingers to Black Jack's body. He only let the towel transfer his interest (which there certainly was). Black Jack needed it, he was sure.

He closed his eyes, and just let himself be touched. Really it was easier that way.. He knew that he should be with company tonight.. It was better for him... And strong hands gently drying him, stroking over his hair was soothing. He didn't really have it in him for direct antagonism tonight... he glanced at his bloody clothing in the corner of the room. He preferred it on the inside as well, truth be told.

Feeling him relax like this was worth the care Kiriko was taking. His arms ached a little with exhaustion, but he never changed his pressure and focus. It was a doctor thing, he supposed. And when he was done, he placed a kiss to the nape of the other's neck, where that ridiculous, adorable cowlick had already exposed the knob of his C1. It needed a kiss, so he kissed it, that was all. He was soft in this pressure as well, and listened to Black Jack's reaction.

He gasped softly, a low noise that only proximity allowed to be heard. It had been a pleasant feeling with just the right amount of pressure. It was always just the right amount with him. Infuriatingly, he always seemed to know what was just the right way to touch.

He gave another pat to his bottom. "All right, you're done. Go get in bed. I'll be in soon. I have to get cleaned up, you know?"

Black Jack did, indeed, slip into bed. But not without at least looking at the pullout. Judging from the looks of it, his back would hurt after only a few minutes of its treatment. He sighed, slipping between the soft clean sheets. They had a well worn comfort to sent him almost immediately off to unconsciousness. As it was, he was lightly dozing when he heard the bathroom door open. Was there a reason to move? No, he supposed not.

Kiriko wandered into the bedroom, keeping his mumbles to himself. He had squeezed out as much of the water as he could, but his hair was still damp. That meant that the tie of his eyepatch would slowly bring water to the patch itself, and all night the skin underneath would be sogged lightly. He promised himself again that he was going to get it cut, for real this time. Ah, and Black Jack was already asleep? He was a little disappointed. He had to admit, he’d been rather worked up at the thought of easing him with more salacious means. But if the other man was relaxed enough, who was Kiriko to just make selfish demands? He took off the towel he'd wrapped around his waist and flopped it over the back of the chair in the room. Black Jack’s unconsciousness wasn't, however, going to give up the chance to rest beside a handsome, warm body. He pulled up the cover and let his eyes run down the beautiful, scarred body of the man he had met as Hazama Kuro.

"I am not here to be stared at." Black Jack’s left eye cracked open and looked at him. He took in Kiriko's long hair was draped down his back, and slicked back with water. His cheekbones looking all the sharper for it. Black Jack turned on his side, and stared him squarely in the eyes.

"Ah, my apologies." He closed his eye, not out of respect, but out of the danger of those hot, red-brown eyes from under careless bangs. He was naked, after all, and even his old body still had some life in it. He climbed in and face the other. "Comfortable?" he asked as though he weren't suddenly thinking about the pullout himself.

Black Jack just nodded. He could feel the hesitation. Perhaps without alcohol, and with neither of them about to die, Kiriko was thinking better of this. He spoke boldly: "Feeling squeamish?"

"Me not wanting to take advantage of a sleeping man younger than myself is squeamish?" he asked, blinking his one good eye slowly. He tilted his head, looking into those challenging eyes. "If, however, you're not planning on being asleep now, I had rather gotten my hopes up." Kiriko nonchalantly got under the blankets he had raised, and curled in closely. The only impetus toward activity was a gentle hand that came to rest on Black Jack’s shoulder that gently smoothed fingertips against his skin. Kiriko slid softly over the soft skin. In crossing a scar, he noticed that the hair growth subtly changed direction as well. He brushed it softly this way and that as he waited for Black Jack's answer.

Instead, he turned fully on his side to face away from Kiriko. However, he curled back against the other. This method had always worked best between them. He looked back over his shoulder, and stroked a thumb over one of those sharp cheekbones.

Black Jack was suddenly tight up against him. He supposed it was enough of an answer that he needed be concerned if his body reacted. He leaned into the touch and let his hand wander as he wished. "You seemed to not be so skinny these days. That midget of yours treating you well, I suppose?"

"You have not learned the finer points of seducing another yet, have you, old man?" He chuckled softly. He gasped as Kiriko's fingers traced a scar, finding a sensitive inch or two in it.

"In that you're afraid to accept a compliment, or that you have some outdated idea that bringing up a woman while we are here like this is tasteless?" He replayed his motion over the scar just under the coastal cartilage. It had been a nice gasp. He wondered how many of those he could cause before Black Jack impatiently arched his hips back.

"I think it is standard to not mention that your partner has put on weight." The sensitive bit of scar was wearing him down. It felt good, the way the lightly calloused fingers brushed over his skin in gentle, easy ways that he never thought to do for himself. He could feel his cheeks  coloring again, as well as a slight amount at his chest. His pulse and breathing were becoming irregular.

"What if it's nice? You were certainly a hard-bodied young thing then, but I like knowing that your shoulder-blades aren't going to cut me." He touched over his scapula as he spoke. "Or that there's a bit of pleasing cushion here," he said as he full-on groped his gluteus maximus.

He gasped and pulled slightly away. "You somehow managed to avoid injury then." He allowed himself to be soothed back into his arms however.

"I was a stronger man then, I think. You have to make allowances for my, as you said, old man-hood." He embraced Black Jack fully now, and placed another kiss to the back of his neck. Their bodies had drawn fairly close.

"Hmmph, I've seen more pitiful specimens who were younger." He had intended a harder edge to his statement, but the new kiss at the back of his neck softened its edge. Kiriko's agile fingers trailed over the scar on his hip, causing the tightening of muscles of his abdomen in arousal. He found that place where the scar curved just under his left buttock, causing him to shiver.

"I hadn't expected you to seek out very many specimens..." he murmured. "Should I be jealous?" He stroked more insistently, curling his fingers to vary whether fingertips, the pads of his fingers, or his fingernails stimulated the skin. He felt the growing tension in Black Jack's body, felt the tightening of the muscles in his back.

Black Jack laughed softly. "Not as a general rule. For some, ah, reason you are special." The wicked fingers were teasing up along the long scar tracing his spine, and then along his side and to his front. His breathing had become much more erratic. He turned his head now, and brought his lips to Kiriko's, a hand sinking back into the platinum hair.

Kiriko marveled: so much fire in him! The excitement welled. Maybe that was just the painful tug at his hair (he was  _ going _ to get this cut). He accidentally let slip a deep groan as he caught Black Jack's lips. The twist also finally pressed them tightly together, making Black Jack arch and grind back against Kiriko's front. The next moan ran down Black Jack's throat. Their hands joined at Black Jack’s hip, but Black Jack’s other fingers worked at the small strap and pulled it free, stealing the other doctor's eye patch.

Kirko immediately lunged backward, a snarl on his lips. He covered his eye and curled at the edge of the bed. His body shuddered at the slingshot in his emotions and desires.

Black Jack waited a moment, watching from over his shoulder. "It's nothing,” he finally said. “I have more than likely seen much worse." He turned, sat up, and rested a hand on other's shoulder. He didn’t moving it until the other quieted slightly.

Kiriko still covered his eye, but his shoulders topped shaking. "You know, I'm trying to comfort you. Moron.” He paused again. “There's no reason to activate the PTSD of the person trying to comfort you." He had stopped trembling, but he kept his eye covered.

Black Jack’s voice was low, even quieter that the hotel’s natural sounds. “I thought we were being open to one another." He touched the hand covering Kiriko's eye."You think it’s fine to fetishise my scars? I get to see yours." Those red brown eyes half glared at him.

Kiriko met the gaze, once again stunned that so angry a look could express so much, well, he couldn't quite call it love, could he? "I suppose you'll win, then. If I want to keep fetishising you." Kiriko looked down and removed his hand. He closed his good eye and lifted his head. It's not as though it would fool him. The dead eye's lid was scarred and the eyelashes did not grow properly anymore.

The touch was light as Black Jack traced over the scars, feeling over the delicate lines and folds until they worked into natural skin again. He thought,  _ Is this fascination how Kiriko feels when he touches my own scars? _

“I suppose you'll tell me that if you were there you would have saved my eye from the infection?” His voice was flat, but his heart quickened in panic at the touches to skin so unused to contact.

"Perhaps.. You know that every injury is different." He trailed a fingertip along his lashes, feeling the difference. " Why have you not considered a false one?"

A hundred answers were in him, and none could be voiced. He picked a half-answer. "It's a fool who tries to alter the body to save anything." The hotel room felt cold now, not cozy and warm. The chill from outside eased in.

"You've been a surgeon. A skillful one at that. " He ran his hand down over that sharp cheekbone, tracing the prominent line of the bone with his fingertip. He'd stroked over this cheek in that hut somewhere in Vietnam. He supposed that for others, to think of times in Vietnam during the war as happier times, might be odd. He traced along his jawline now.

"There is no skill that does anything but delay the inevitable." Kiriko brushed Black Jack's hand away. "Men like us should avoid shop talk." He put on a smile and looked at the other: the expression on his face was so soft, so kind, so... bleeding heart that it made Kiriko sick with the emotion. Why did he have to think about so much pain? "I brought you here to distract you from the truth. Don't examine it all the harder." He looked down at his own chest, and could only see age and abuse. "I am not that young man you knew in that faraway time and place."

He looked at him. "I'm not that young man from then. We have changed. Change happens so long as you are alive." He stroked his cheek again.

Kiriko sighed. "This atmosphere's too heavy." He smiled again. "You're always so warm...." He leaned into the touch.

"I believe you said something about an attempt to comfort me." He stroked over his scars again, awkwardly, because it was not his normal inclination, leaned forward and kissed the center of the scarring.

"Hai, hai..." he said in Black Jack's native language. English could never quite be as petulant. He cupped the hand to his face, pulled it downward, and kissed it. Black Jack let himself be pressed back to sheets, accepting the other man into his arms. It was too easy to lay him back, trace his lines, his form, his new softness, his old scars. It was too easy to demand kisses from him that were violent, quiet him with kisses that were slow and gentle, and coax low groans from him with kisses that included tongue and teeth. It was too easy to be with him, in every way.

There was something wonderful in this. Something exciting and nerve wracking, like a new surgery undertaken. Black Jack’s heart was pounding, his breathing erratic. His hands slipped to Kiriko's shoulders. The ridiculously long, pale hair tangled around his fingers.

Black Jack's hands were always so warm, Kiriko thought. The man was trembling underneath him, and Kiriko could only soothe him with touch after touch. Hands fisted into his hair, and again he flinched. It was a pleasant pain. He wouldn't voice it out loud, but that pain was probably the stimulus sending a hot jolt to his groin.

Black Jack tilted his head, and pulled him in for a kiss, his thoughts wandering to previous kisses between on a bench one humid night in Vietnam, that had quickly ( and a little drunkenly) moved to a small, cramped hut. Remembering a small intimate secret of the night, he dipped his head, and worked his mouth against the other's adam's apple.

That was playing dirty. Kiriko groaned, hard, half-choking as the want welled up inside his body. The touch to his throat made one thing very clear: this wasn't just for Black Jack. He was invested. He wanted Black Jack underneath him. He wanted to hold him down and feel the fire within him straining back against him.

He felt the other man's pulse flutter against his tongue and groaned against it, his hands gripping and finding purchase against the other's back, gripping harshly into the muscle, feeling the change in Kiriko's pulse as he did so.

Kiriko pulled back and stared down at Black Jack's chest. He enjoyed the look of his muscles straining. Kiriko breathed out lowly. "You're going to let yourself out loud this time, Ha-Black Jack." He nudged the younger man's legs to part them.

"If we are attempting to be open to each other... you may call me as such... or rather..." His face clouded, his thoughts swirling on his face. "If we are to share bodies, it seems ridiculous to not use my name."

Ever the romantic, Kiriko mused. "Kuro," he purred. He leaned in close to Black Jack's ear. "No. Black Jack. You are Black Jack now. I'll not dwell on our pasts or happier times." He growled the next words: "Black Jack, you are the one I am taking right now." Kiriko bit delicately at Black Jack's Adam's apple.

Black Jack shivered a little, and stroked a hand down his cheek. "Very well... but I refuse to call you 'Mozart'."

"Call me whatever you wish, so long as you moan it loudly." The kisses became more insistent, working down the side of his neck, and suckling on his collar bones.

He hadn't realized that those were so sensitive on hm. He tilted his head back, letting him have more access. Again, he stroked through that pale hair, catching the scent of his aftershave, freshly applied after the other man's shower.

There was a hint of hedonism in the man after all, it seemed. Kiriko lavished attention on his body, "fetishistically," in Black Jack's words. He sucked and nipped and kissed his way over the wild map of scars and skin until reaching the sparsely haired groin. He inhaled the scent offered here, and listened to all the sounds of Black Jack's body beneath his.

He murmured softly, and sat up. He leaned back against the headboard. He couldn't quite stand the thought of being so passive. He leaned in for another awkward kiss, his hand resting on the other man's shoulder.

Kiriko accepted the kiss, letting him do as he wished. He tried not to be irritated at the exposed feeling of being so close with nothing covering his eye.

"You are still attractive under that eyepatch." He pet along the eyebrow over his injured eye. He leaned forward and kissed over his shoulder, and pulled him closer, gripping into his shoulders as Kiriko's hand slyly brushed over over his inner thigh near his tip.

Kiriko knew better than to spend much time trying to draw pleasure from him there, yet. He continued the kiss, despite his yoga-like pose, and slowly spread Black Jack's legs wider. He stroked over his inner thighs with ghost-touches.

He gasped softly into a kiss against the other man's shoulder, and spread himself further. He pulled himself forward, and stroked along Kiriko's back, and down along his hips.

This was becoming distracting indeed. Kiriko shivered, despite feeling quite warm overall. "Do you realize what you do to me?" he asked. Black Jack might have the ability to withstand the body's more revealing reactions, but Kiriko did not. He had grown quite hard by now, and knew that he was starting to care more about "want" and less about "comfort."

He blushed and then, covering he chuckled. "For professing to be such an old man, you seem... youthful in your vigor." He tilted his knee such that it caused the other man's prick to bob slightly.

Kiriko gasped outright and gripped a little hard into Black Jack's inner thigh. "There's no need to be so facetious. I'm old, not dead." Kiriko brushed a finger down Black Jack's jaw line. "And you are a fine, beautiful thing."

A soft little gasp, his cheeks  coloring. "I am not a man to be held up as an ideal." He stroked along Kiriko's hip, and reached beneath him. He tweaked his tip. "But this seems to have perverse tastes, so I suppose we must humour you."

With a wry grin, Kiriko answered, "What a rare thing, you humoring me." Kiriko arched his hips forward a little, wanting more.

"But who am I too look a gift idealist in the mouth?"

He arched a brow, and stroked a finger along the cut of his hipbone. "Perhaps I am in an odd mood. I am not normal in the habit of humoring anyone."

Kiriko made a dark noise. "You would humor me by putting your mouth to better use." 

A chuckle. "I see. " Why not do it? They had come this far, and he'd been willing when he had known far less about the man. Pride? If pride were a true issue in this, he would still have his trousers on and be on a plane home. He nodded. With some rearranging, (and more kissing), he was soon stroking over the other man, their mouths battling against one another.

Kiriko realized somewhere along the way that he was no longer the one in charge, that he was the one arching his hips, making needy noises. Well, it had been a while, hadn't it? Wasn't he entitled to a little abandon? He'd never considered how much trust was involved in this act before. And that on some level he trusted this man. Black Jack ran a calming hand down along Kiriko's chest and stomach, and slowly lowered himself, finally touching his mouth to the frenulum.

Kiriko opened his eye wide, watching intently. "My God...." he whispered. How was so damaged a man so beautiful? His lips must have been destined for this. They were lovely when he pouted, but this kind of pout was too much, Kiriko thought. And then there was his thoroughness. He was slow, precise, and so intent! "Black... Jack...."

It was then that Kiriko caught a giggle. "Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaheh......!"

He sat back on his heels, the scowl of scowls on his face. "What. is. SO. funny?"

Kiriko spluttered a minute, covering himself as he snerked. "Black Jack... B-J!" He got better control of himself and fanned himself.

"Spoken like a man who won't be getting one." The scowl seemed almost about to take up permanent residence.

Kiriko snerked a few more times, but kissed him again. "There's no need for that, Black Jack. You're precisely, as you are, just right. You are beautiful as you work for the pleasure of another, as a doctor... or a lover." His voice faltered, but he held Black Jack's eyes.

_ Shameless flirt. You were then, as well _ . But he let himself be charmed for the time being, especially since Kiriko kissed him once again.

"Please," he purred in equal parts lust and power. He was asking and ordering at the same time.

He nodded, and leaned forward, kissing his chest again. It was still firm if not perfectly military fit, the skin smooth and warm beneath his lips.

Kiriko touched Black Jack's face with a loving pet. He cupped his cheek, then moved upward into his hair. 

He touched his lips to his tip again, looking up at him this time, watching for any signs of humour. Seeing none, he closed his eyes, and began to work against the underside, enjoying the sensation of lips and tongue against heated soft skin.

Kiriko was almost ashamed of himself at how good it felt. He tried to slow his heart rate, control himself a bit more. It wouldn't do for this to be over the moment, oh god, Black Jack swallowed at his tip. Kiriko touched again at his hair, but was careful to not press or tug, no matter how base instinct begged.

It felt perfect, this touching of another. No quick decisions with life or death consequences. Just pleasure, and figuring out the finer points of giving it. Pressure of lips here, a swirl of the tongue there. That momentary lack of breath as he swallowed against it.

How could he be so calm while completely unwinding him? It was getting harder and harder to resist the urge in his hips. He had given up covering up his panting breaths. He instead tried to focus on watching the play of Black Jack's back muscles as he thoughtfully explored Kiriko's prick.

Kiriko had begun to touch, stroke, and tease over the scars on his back and shoulders. The feeling of his touch ghosting in and out as he stroked along the lines, caused Black Jack to shiver.

Kiriko gasped at the shiver. "If you're cold, come up here!" he barked. He pulled the other upward and into an embrace.. He wrapped like a serpent around him, kissing for all he was worth, as though he had hope in his body again.

The other man's mouth was warm against his, their tongues battling against one another. Kiriko's hands moved quickly, stroking down over his and pressed his hips hard against the mattress. He groaned low, near the other man's ear. "I should be eased into. There's been no preparation yet."

"How long since you'd been penetrated?" he asked, the words sparse. His fingers were long on Black Jack's slim hips. He thought about his kit, realized he had perfect options there. But he took a moment more to watch the expressions moving across Black Jack's face.

A few expressions did slip across his face to be sure, but he finally spoke. "Except for a prostate check up last month, nothing of this nature, since the last time." The last was muttered very quietly.

"Tch." He'd have to take him time, be gentle. Well, that's how he'd intended this to go. It was Black Jack's fault for riling him so. Kiriko grumbled quietly to himself as he stood to retrieve the neutral lubricant gel from his back. Condom, condom.... Did he really not have one? "I might be ill-equipped to, ah... Well, Black Jack, do you have a rubber?"

"In my bag." He scowled at the little smile. "They are sometimes useful for moments other than this."

Kiriko laughed again as he dug through the bag. It was quick, since the bag had the organization of an OCD accountant. “I thought you might. I did see that World Health Organization poster.”

He put a hand to his forehead. "I promise you, I hadn't expected to be on the poster. I was showing the volume capacity to cite that there wasn’t basis for the complaint of not fitting. And before you say anything, it was filled with  colored water." He scowled.

Kiriko caught the giggles again, but they subsided more quickly this time. "You can't help doing good works, can you?" he asked as he worked lubricant in his hands to warm it. He leaned to kiss Black Jack's knee (reaching his lips would be sticky and impossible at this point).

"I do not like it when someone’s terminal stupidity will harm another." Black Jack shivered at the first touch. Kiriko had done an excellent job of warming it, but no amount of warming was ever enough for this moment.

Kiriko had kind, gentle hands. He eased Black Jack's tense legs wider. He wasn't yet erect, but by now Kiriko knew to look for the dilation of his eyes, the flush on his chest, for accurate indications of desire. He massaged with care and kindness, remembering the strangled cries of the last, rushed time they had fought-done-this. "What do you know?" he mused. "There is something we agree on."

Black Jack had a snark prepared as a comeback, but somehow managed to forget it as he shivered in pleasure. Kiriko’s hands worked with a surgeon's care, touching so that each of Black Jack’s breaths became gasps. He could feel his body opening, easing the passage of Kiriko's fingers.

In this, Kiriko lost himself again. He was providing pleasure, comfort, kindness to another, and that was all it took to ease his own wants. He pressed within as Black Jack's body allowed, and at last he found what he knew awaited: a change in texture, a round gland on the other side of the soft, forgiving wall. He began rubbing rhythmically.

Black Jack moaned loudly, his hands clenching into the other man's shoulders. "You are quick," he choked out. Eyes closed, trying to calm his breathing, he gave himself over to the sensations.

Kirko gave a soft laugh. "You might say I have the hands of a god?" His tone was sarcastic, but he leaned in to kiss Black Jack's forehead. "Tell me you like it," he demanded.

"Obviously... I, uh!... like it. Is it just your name you are wanting to hear moaned?"

"I wouldn't protest," Kiriko murmured as he pressed against the prostate with gentle, insistent fingertip. "But as always, you'll do whatever you want." He began a similarly gentle and insistent trail of kisses over Black Jack's stomach.

It occurred to him in that moment that in all the time he had known the other, the man had never given him a given name to use. First it had been "No names are necessary tonight, and then after that association, they had used only their professional names.

“Kiriko.” Black Jack said each syllable with precision, then again with passion. He noticed the dilation and smirked a little. "Kiriko..."

Kiriko muttered a little gruffly, but the specific words didn't matter much. He was panting a little with the overall excitement. He stretched his fingers within Black Jack and felt the tightness finally give a little, heard the release of breath from the other's chest.

Black Jack’s own fingers had found their way again, up into Kiriko's hair. He let the pale strands trail through his fingers and pulling them gently to his the skin of his cheek and let them trail across his lips.

Kiriko pulled back and at last let his head dip downward and nuzzle Black Jack's tip. He placed a kiss on the lower part of his stomach, and let his lips drag slowly along a thick scar cupping the abdominal wall. He felt heady, knowing that Black Jack's body was responding so well to his administrations.

He looked down at him, a slight open sadness of his face as the loss of the other's embrace, but he leaned up on his elbows, watching the other. He panted softly, soundlessly.

Kiriko gave him a wide smile. He petted along Black Jack's side.

"Is this bad?" he asked, catching the sad expression. It was quite pretty how he panted, though, unwilling to let go and enjoy, and, instead, be completely aware and involved. It was one of his more endearing, annoying traits.

"No." Black Jack swallowed a little harder than he cared admit. He smoothed a hand down his front, and stroked over Kiriko's long elegant fingers that were rested easily against his lower stomach. "You are still quite adept at this, old man." He smirked.

Kiriko's grin dropped dramatically. "Rude men don't get gently fucked, and just get left to take care of themselves." He pulled free of Black Jack and cleaned his hand crudely on the sheet. His brave language was belied by his rather strong visual evidence of arousal.

"Ahn." He cried out at the sudden emptiness. He glowered at him. "That is an empty threat.... and the three of us know it." With a toe, he nudged Kiriko’s erection.

"Ah-ah," Kiriko waggled a cautionary finger. "The four of us, I believe." He then pointed downward. He allowed himself the smuggest of faces. Black Jack’s prick also stood erect, his pale skin having colored here.

"Then neither of us should be arguing this matter." He leaned back against the pillows, and tugged the other man up with him. Things moved a little bit faster at that moment. Kiriko shamelessly grunted in agreement and behaved a little more earnestly that he would have liked to admit. He realized only after a several long moments that he was desperately kissing Black Jack while grinding against him. It was a few more moments before he realized the motion was being returned. The other man's mouth was still so warm, and with an encouraging amount of pressure. He clung to the Black Jack, choosing to loosen his grip on propriety for the moment and just let their bodies work together, touching, tugging, and clawing as they might. He at last began to more insistently press between the other's legs. He knew he would have to eventually ask, but for now he wanted to feel Black Jack riding out the sensation.

Black Jack’s hands gained purchase against the Kiriko’s shoulders. He bit back the sound at first, but it had been the one thing the other man has asked for in all of this.. "Kiriko… Kiriko!"

That was the breaking point. "Oh, gods, Kuroo!" Kirko’s hips hiked hard, and he held more tightly. "Please let me inside you!" Black Jack’s face  colored at the use of his real name on Kiriko’s tongue. His hands moved wildly over skin, squeezing and massaging. He pulled back a little, a grin once again on his lips. "I'd say your moans are an answer, but informed consent is a must." He held up the condom acquired earlier. "If you have any last objections to starting the next phase, now is the time."

"Good God, I consent."

FADE TO BLACK,  _ with sound effects _

**Author's Note:**

> This uses material from all parts of the Black Jack universe, including Young Black Jack. The poster mentioned is a fanart. If you know where this came from, tell me! : http://o.aolcdn.com/hss/storage/fss/dab3a7db24813781dbf1715281c9bbf/Black.Jack.%28Character%29.600.740131.jpg
> 
> For head canon reference: I'm of the mind that Black Jack's blown apart body takes a little extra effort to get the soldier to salute, as it were. Pretty sure I'm not alone in this fandom?


End file.
